


A Christmas Wish

by ShunRenDan, thalassatides



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Hamuko is my headcanon, Minako and Minato are not related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShunRenDan/pseuds/ShunRenDan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassatides/pseuds/thalassatides
Summary: “I’m scared,” she eventually admitted, almost tearfully. “Is this truly the last time we’ll be able to celebrate together like this? Will I not see you again?”
Relationships: Arisato Hamuko/Arisato Minato, Arisato Minako & Arisato Minato, Arisato Minako/Arisato Minato, Female Persona 3 Protagonist & Male Persona 3 Protagonist, Female Persona 3 Protagonist/Male Persona 3 Protagonist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	A Christmas Wish

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting around for quite some time. I figured we ought to finish it up and get it out there. My headcanon has always been Hamuko and Minato being childhood friends, but I decided for this particular AU, Minato was given a second chance to help someone else lighten the burden: he takes place of Hamuko's childhood friend, who is also called Minato.

The melancholy of winter broke just long enough for the warmth of Christmas to settle in. December shadows stretched out into the night, while snow gathered on every sill and frost mounted on every pane. The weather grew colder, and even Koromaru refused to brave the chill outside. Instead, he curled up with Ken inside of the dormitory and bundled across the cushions of a couch he was not supposed to be sleeping on.

Minato couldn’t blame him.

Never before had Christmas felt like such a foreign entity. The friendly jingles, the warmth of the lights, even the familiar copses of hot cocoa gathered on the tables and the way his friends dared sprawl out in their ugly sweaters across the dorm felt like facsimiles. They were not, he remembered, the friends he knew, even if they were so identical that they shared birth marks and memories with a girl that wasn’t quite him.

That girl caught on to how distant he kept himself long before he realized just how transparent the signs he threw off were. She noticed when he drew away from meals early, she pursed her lips when he avoided the commons and when he left the marshmallows at the bottom of his cocoa. She was observant like that, or maybe just self-aware. It was that stubborn nature of hers that drew him to her.

It made sense that it would draw her to him, too.

She cornered him one night when he stepped outside into the cold, wearing a particularly sinful sweater that Junpei got him as an “early Christmas gift” gone wrong. On its wintergreen front was a reindeer with a flashing red nose and a devil-may-care grin, backed by a field of snowflakes that sparkled tackily beneath the porchlight. Hamuko pushed a finger up against one of those sparkling monstrosities when she backed him up against the railing, her face screwed up in concern.

“You’re not ducking out on Christmas,” she said, flatly.

“No,” Minato replied.

The pout on her face was all the doubt he needed to see. Minato turned away, propped his elbows up on the porch’s concrete edge, and stared out onto the grounds. A thin veneer of snow burned gold beneath the streetlights that lined the sidewalks and cast Koromaru’s half-buried pawprints in shadow-black.

He didn’t know how long he stared out into the snow before the dull thrum of Jingle Bells from the house inside died down, replaced by the crooning tones of a different, altogether more soothing song. He thought it might’ve been Edelweiss.

The words hadn’t yet cut through the silence when a car raced down the street in the distance, and a familiar warmth nestled in against his side like a bauble buried in pine. 

“I wanted to spend time with you,” Minato admitted.

“For Christmas?”

“In general.”

Hamuko tutted. “It’s not like we’re in danger, you know.”

When Minato didn’t reply, Hamuko elbowed him.

“It won’t be long before we’ve got all of this business wrapped up. And maybe we can get you home, too. To where you belong.”

Minato wasn’t sure that was the gift she thought it was. It felt like that wish fed right back into the thing that kept Christmas at arm’s length — the knowledge that no matter what he did, it would all be ephemeral. The timeline was a mayfly, just like he was, and it was doomed to burn out before long. What mattered most was whether it’d be him or her, and who would need to live with the burden of carrying on.

What he was sure of was that she caught onto his doubt. He watched her pout and cross her arms out of the corner of his eye. Felt her nuzzle in closer, furious with just how much of a fuddy-duddy he was.

“You know, Junpei called you a grinch earlier.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Wanna tell me why you’re being so grumpy before I tell him I agree with him?”

It was hard to explain exactly what it was. The surreality of it or the way everything felt so exactly the same, shifted one degree, thus so different that — that he couldn’t see straight most days. What was worse was just how defeated it left him feeling and how it wiped away the catharsis of his last days, as if every sliver of the vindication he’d earned amounted only to silver.

She helped, sometimes. She was different than he was, but every inch the wild card. Where he dallied, she dove in. Where he faltered, she stood tall. Hamuko was better at what he did than he was and he respected that, especially now that he was limited to just one Persona.

It was hard to say how much she knew, harder to remember how much he’d told her in a low voice the first time she barged into his room in the middle of the night to figure out what exactly his problem was.

Minato was about to open his mouth when a head mint-leaf popped out from the door behind them. Two cups of steaming cocoa spiraled in Fuuka’s hands. Her eyes lingered on Minato longer than they should have as she meekly offered the mugs to her two friends.

“I made some for Ken,” she explained. “I thought you two could use some too, since I… made too much.”

If Minato accepted his mug, Hamuko snatched hers.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re the best, Fuuka,” Hamuko concluded. “Get some for yourself, too. We’ll be inside in a minute.”

“Is everything alright?”

Hamuko glanced over to Minato, who was studying his cocoa and the light pooling on its surface. A little snowman glittered on the side of the mug, backed by a field of blue sky and white snow that curled around his would-be feet like a milk moustache.

“Yeah. I’m just bugging this guy.”

“Well, be careful,” Fuuka nodded. “They _do_ say the quiet ones are dangerous…”

The two of them shared a long, deep laugh before Hamuko practically shoved her friend inside. She was one of the few people that could get Fuuka to open up and play like that. To everyone else, she was meek, pristine like the snowflakes that danced to the earth and massed on the porch’s edge.

“At least you said thanks,” she teased, once Fuuka was back inside.

With her cocoa in hand, Hamuko buried her cheek against Minato’s shoulder. She was only a little shorter than he was. He chose not to say anything about it. Instead, he chose to comment on the hot chocolate in his hands. 

“Do you have a wish of your own, Minato?” 

“I do,” the blue-haired boy answered. 

“You ever considered staying with us?” Hamuko asked softly. A little softly for the girl herself, but Minato knew better than to open his mouth.

“What about your Minato?” 

“I want him back but…” 

She paused.

“You’ve grown on me too. You’re Minato too,” Hamuko added. “After all, two people can share the same name—”

“But not the same soul or existence,” Minato finished, just as Hamuko’s hand ran up to loosen it from its ponytail. Her auburn hair fell down around her, like a waterfall being released a blockage.

Minato awkward shifted himself so that she could nestle closer to him. The days to The Fall were drawing nearer, meaning that this would be the last Christmas they were celebrating…

Well, the last Christmas she would be celebrating.

A part of him was selfish: Minato wanted to continue from where he last left off, wondered how things could go differently for him, but it became apparent to him that he had taken the place of someone else and was witnessing a young girl take his place.

He couldn’t bear to watch her be the sacrificial lamb in this game, just like how he had been. Even if it was by her will (and, by extension, his own), he couldn’t allow her to proceed with what has been already laid out for her, simply because Death resided within her soul.

“Hey, you there?”

Minato snapped out from his reverie and turned to face her, cursing himself at the concern etched into her features, pale underneath the moonlight.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Things.”

He didn’t see her huff, but he could almost imagine it playing out in her head, as she turned away from him to take a sip from her drink. Around this time, Minato remembered cold creeping into his skin, not from the weather, but from the awareness that he was supposed to bring about a means to an end.

Back then, he hadn’t been sure what was about to happen to him. Despite his nonchalance, his insides were churning and he was certain that there was a storm brewing within Hamuko, despite her happy-go-lucky attitude.

Her eyes showed the truth.

“I’m scared,” she eventually admitted, almost tearfully. “Is this truly the last time we’ll be able to celebrate together like this? Will I not see you again?”

He waited with bated breath.

“I want my Minato back, but I want you too.”

His heart surrendered to her. Minato leaned forward, bumped foreheads with her and, sharing a long look before connecting their lips together in a dance of tongues. His free hand wrapped gripped at her hips, while her free hand pressed against his chest.

“I know,” Minato admitted softly. “But the world… if there’s one thing I know, the world isn’t going to give us a break. It’ll never wait for us.”

“I know,” Hamuko agreed, grinning from ear-to-ear, gazing at her boyfriend with all the love in her eyes.

“So we don’t wait for them either.”


End file.
